Page 26 of Pierre (Voodoo Guardians #40)

They stood at the top of the hill, watching as Jane ran back to the gates. As they were opened for her, Pierre, Frank, and the others came toward Cruz and Butch.

“What the hell is happening?” asked Ham.

“Look up the hill,” said Cruz. “What do you see?”

“Women. Old women walking,” said Tucker.

“Yes. Three old women walking in the early morning hours. In pants, brand-name running shoes, sun hats, and following three children that were running in that direction. All three are decidedly Caucasian and not worried about being on these streets so early in the morning.”

“The old ladies the kid saw from the boat,” said Pierre.

“Maybe. I can’t be sure, but it was too much of a damn coincidence,” said Cruz.

“We follow,” said Pierre. “We follow and find out where in the hell they’re going and where those kids disappeared to.”

Ensuring that they stayed well behind the women, it became easier as the city awoke, people coming out of their homes and into the streets. Occasionally, the women would stop, speak to someone, and move along.

“The people they’re talking to look scared,” said Butch. Pierre nodded at his teammate.

“They do. We need to find out why they’re afraid of a few little old ladies.”

Their steps were slow and sure, careful to avoid trash and debris on the sidewalks and streets. When they stopped at a sidewalk market, they bought a bag of apples and a bag of oranges, talking to the vendor for several minutes.

Ham and Frank haggled over mangoes with a vendor, while the others milled around the market. When the man gave a nod to the women, accepting a large envelope of cash, the men knew something wasn’t right.

He disappeared into a small shack and came out a few moments later with four boys, all under the age of eight or nine.

The women took their hands and began to walk.

The first woman handed them an orange, and the boys seemed mesmerized, immediately peeling the sweet fruit, juice dripping down their hands.

When they finished the oranges, she handed them each an apple.

Again, the boys seemed excited for the fruit, as if it were their first. As Pierre got closer, he heard the woman speaking about getting them to the ship before noon.

One of them complained about her bunions, while the other complained of the heat.

“It’s always hot here. Stop complaining,” said the third.

“You know, Vera, I’ve about had it with your uppity attitude. It’s damn hot here, and I’m ready to leave.” One of the boys dropped his apple, and Pierre saw his chance. He picked it up, and the boy had tears in his eyes because it was dirty.

“That’s what you get for dropping it,” growled one of the women.

“Hey, don’t cry, buddy,” said Pierre. He grabbed the bottled water from his pack and washed the apple, handing it back to the kid. Whatever dirt or germs were left were probably no match for this kid’s iron-clad constitution.

“He’s clumsy,” said one of the women.

“He’s a kid,” laughed Pierre. “I’m around a lot of kids back home.”

“Good for you,” said the one named Vera. “Let’s go, boys.”

“You’re not very nice,” said Pierre. He looked at the boys then back at the women. Then he spoke to the boys in Haitian French. “Why are you with these ladies?”

“What are you saying? What did you ask them?” asked one in a panicked voice.

“I’m wondering why three old, white women are with four boys from Haiti, and yet you don’t speak Haitian French.”

“Mind your damn business,” said one of the women. She felt a sharp sting at her side and gasped, looking down at the trickle of blood. One of the men held a syringe in his hand, the other women experiencing the same thing.

“These kids are our business,” said Frank. “Let’s go, ladies. You’ve got an appointment you can’t miss.”

While the boys were being looked after by the medical team and questioned by those who spoke their language, the three old women were taken to an interrogation room, groggy but awake.

“We have rights!” yelled one of them. Pierre raised his brows, staring at the Canadian passport.

“Is that right, Vera McQuillen? You’re a Canadian citizen stealing Haitian children. I’d say that cancels all your rights.”

“Pfft! I wasn’t stealing anything. They wanted to come with us. They’ll have a much better life than they have here.”

“Shut up, Vera!”

“You shut up! I’m so tired of your damn whining!”

“Are you a whiner, Mabel Talbot?” He stared at her U.S. passport and shook his head. He wasn’t sure if the passports were legit, but these women were all in their seventies.

“I don’t whine!”

“Yes, you do,” said the third woman.

“And we finally get to Rosalynn Giamatta,” said Pierre. “So, we have a Canadian, an American, and a British citizen. What happened to your accent, Rosalynn?”

She glared at Pierre but said nothing else as the women just stared in their direction. When one of their cell phones began buzzing, they all looked at one another, panicked.

“Should I get that for you? Perhaps it’s Sister Josephina,” said Butch. The three women paled, looking at the men staring down at them. “No. No, that can’t be right, can it? I mean, Sister Josephina has been dead a hundred years.”

“Who are you and what do you want with us?” asked Vera.

“We want the good sister and the children you’ve taken,” said Pierre. “We know you’re selling them for war. Selling them to a madman to build soldiers.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Mabel.

“Shut up, Mabel.”

“Put a sock in it, Rosalynn! Look around you. You’re so stupid sometimes. We are on a Navy ship with a bunch of G.I. Joes staring at us. Do you honestly believe they don’t know?”

“Where are the other kids?” asked Pierre.

“They’re on a ship getting ready to be taken to an island where they’ll train.”

“What island?” asked Frank.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been to the island myself, but I understand that it’s not that far from here. The boys are taken there, put through physical tests, trained, taught to use rifles, and when they’re ready, they will be put to work.”

“Ready? They’re fucking children. Children!” yelled Ham, slamming his fist on the table.

“In case you missed it,” sneered Rosalynn, “children are dying on those streets out there. It doesn’t matter. Adult, elderly, child, infant. They are doomed unless someone helps them.”

“And you’re helping them by teaching them to kill for someone else?” asked Pierre.

The three women looked at one another, then back at Pierre.

“For someone else?” asked Mabel. “No. Not for someone else. They come back here, where they will fight for us to have control of the island.”

“Wait. What the fuck did you say?” asked Frank.

“The four of us, me, Rosalynn, Vera, and Josie, we came here twenty years ago to teach. We thought we could make a difference, and I suppose in some ways we were. But it wasn’t enough.

So, we developed a plan that we would take the boys most at risk, train them in the ways of war, and when we had enough warriors, we would bring them back and wage war on this island, taking it for our own. ”

“Your own? And what in the hell did you think the current government or military would do about that? As teachers, do you have any idea, any comprehension of what happens to people who start government coups? You won’t live past the first wave of attacks.”

“Of course we will,” scoffed Vera. “We have already. The riots happening now are caused by our warriors, our soldiers. They’re very good.” The three old women nodded at one another, smiling as if they’d just received the blue ribbon for the winning apple pie at the state fair.

“What time were you to meet her at the ship?” asked Pierre.

“Noon.”

“Text her,” he said, sliding the phone across the table. “Text her and let her know you hit a snag, but you’ll be there soon.”

Standing at her shoulder, Cruz ensured that her message said exactly what they wanted, and then they had the read on Josephina/Josie’s phone.

“Western docks. The ship is the Evangeline, a Canadian freighter,” said Hiro. “She appears to be on deck. I’m sending drones now to get a better look.”

“How old is Josie?” asked Pierre.

“Same as us. Mid-seventies,” said Mabel. “I don’t know why you’re upset by this. The kids are treated better by us than their parents, and when we’re done, they’ll have a better country than they did before.”

“Do you understand how warped that is?” asked Tucker. “This is their home, their people, their families. If they want to fuck it up, blow it up, and sink it, it’s their right to do so. Not yours. You can’t save them.”

“We all used to say that, then Josie convinced us otherwise. There are pockets of safety on this island, thanks to what we’ve done.

We started recruiting teenagers, and that worked for a while.

Then the drug lords came in, offering more than we could.

It seemed more glamorous to work for them than all of us.

“So, we went with recruiting younger children, molding them early, and it worked much better. Some of them had parents, good home lives, but they knew they had to do something to change the future of the country. We offered them a way to do that.”

“And did you tell them that you were going to take control once you had all the kinks worked out?” growled Frank.

“No. We convinced them that women are the smarter sex to run a nation. We would reduce crime, increase earning potential and industry, and ensure that everyone had what they needed.”

“Lock them up,” said Pierre. “Gather your gear. We’re about to stop a coup.”